


Naked Flame

by JackOfNone



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Community: springkink, Exhibitionism, Other, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfNone/pseuds/JackOfNone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Archfiend of Fire knows that some things are only meant for the eyes of the worthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked Flame

The cloak stung his fingers when he ran his hands over the outside -- a strange sensation like needles pricking into his skin. The inside was hot enough to boil iron, comforting against his burning flesh, but the outside...the outside was woven together with the sinews of an ice eidolon he'd dismembered with his own hands, and it still had bite. Once it had been thrilling to have the hated instrument of his demise wrapped around his shoulders, bound in place by sorcery and mixed with the same living fire that ran through his veins, but by now it had become second nature. The cloak was a part of him now, as much as his hands or his feet.

When Rubicante had taken his first scorching breath, he had been conscious of the feeling of nakedness. The air was cool on his exposed skin, strange and exciting, and when he had first caught his reflection on a polished piece of stone, he was stunned for a moment by his own majesty -- graceful as a flame, tense with hidden power. It was immediately obvious to Rubicante that, whatever else he might be, he was a creature of impossible beauty.

It was in that instant that he knew he required a cloak.

He was not like Barbaricca. That foolish she-demon, though quite beautiful in her own way, did not care to hide her body behind capes and robes. She would appear before her victims clothed in little more than her hair, which floated about her like roiling storm clouds. Barbariccia would show off for anyone who cared to see, free and brazen as the air.

Rubicante found himself far too magnificent for that kind of indiscriminate display. He shrouded his towering form in his cloak of ice and flame everywhere he went. It was proof against his one weakness, of course, but it was more than that. The cloak was so impenetrable that he had to throw it wide open to unleash the full fury of his element.

This was entirely by design. Only an opponent strong enough to withstand his unfettered power could be privileged with the spectacular sight of his naked body.

He had not thrown aside his mantle once since he had razed Eblan Castle to the ground. Rubicante prided himself on his honor -- alone among the Archfiends, he had grasped the concept of chivalry and found it to his liking.

Rubicante ran his hands across the tingling surface of his cape and smiled.

* * *

"It was Lugae who made chimerae of your parents...I shared no hand in his perversities."

Dr Lugae's particular brand of demented ingenuity had never suited Rubicante -- reshaping helpless human beings into twisted mockeries was not the sort of perversity suitable for a true gentleman.

The Prince of Eblan barked insults, and Rubicante smiled inwardly. This strident little stripling, he knew, was the greatest of Eblan's ninjas, a fierce and proud warrior who had faced his flames and lived. And behind the prince stood a rogue's gallery of brave humans who had managed to be thorns in Golbez's side since the day he had ascended to his power...all poised with their weapons ready, eager to join battle, eyes fixed on their opponent.

It was so perfect he could have laughed for joy.

"Come, then! I will heal your wounds. Face me at full strength!" With a single gesture he summoned a spark of living fire, a brief flash of light and warmth that closed gashes and banished fatigue.

The Prince of Eblan rushed at him with reckless abandon; the fair man with the golden sword hung back a moment, as though unsure of how to react to such a mannerly monster, but then set his shield and charged. The green-haired female conjured and tossed a shard of ice against his billowing cloak experimentally, which evaporated instantly in the heat of his mantle.

An instant of fighting and Rubicante could wait no longer. He would never find worthier opponents than these unless he climbed to the moon and roused Zemus himself from his fell slumber.

For the first time since setting foot on this planet of weaklings and fools, Rubicante threw open his cloak.

For a brief, beautiful moment, he savored the tableau of faces, his lightning-quick eyes taking in each tiny detail before his opponents scattered to avoid the roaring inferno he conjured at their feet. The young woman who hung back from the charge fired an arrow that arced awkwardly past his shoulder, her face coloring red in that strange manner that human faces did, and the graceful Prince of Eblan nearly tumbled to the ground in surprise. The green-haired wizard cocked her head in what may have been confusion or -- dare he imagine it? -- interest. Golbez's escaped thrall had concealed his face behind his dragoon's helmet, but this was more than made up for by the fact that the fair man's face bore an uncanny resemblance to Golbez himself. Looking at this man, Rubicante could very nearly imagine his master's reaction at catching a glimpse of the Archfiend's full glory, and the thought sent a shiver of delight down Rubicante's spine.

Just as quickly as he had opened it, Rubicante swept his mantle shut and began preparing for a second volley. However it ended, this would truly be a battle to remember.


End file.
